Syrians Face Horror, Fearing Loved Ones May Be in Mass Graves

People search for human remains at a trench believed to be used as a mass grave on the outskirts of Damascus - AFP
People search for human remains at a trench believed to be used as a mass grave on the outskirts of Damascus - AFP
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Syrians Face Horror, Fearing Loved Ones May Be in Mass Graves

People search for human remains at a trench believed to be used as a mass grave on the outskirts of Damascus - AFP
People search for human remains at a trench believed to be used as a mass grave on the outskirts of Damascus - AFP

After losing hope of finding his two brothers among those freed from Syrian jails, Ziad Alaywi was filled with dread, knowing there was only one place they were likely to be: a mass grave.

"We want to know where our children are, our brothers," said the 55-year-old standing by a deep trench near Najha, southeast of Damascus.

"Were they killed? Are they buried here?" he asked, pointing to the ditch, one of several believed to hold the bodies of prisoners tortured to death.

International organizations have called these acts "crimes against humanity".

Since the fall of Bashar al-Assad's regime on December 8 and the takeover by an Islamist-led opposition alliance, families across Syria have been searching for their loved ones.

"I've looked for my brothers in all the prisons," said the driver from the Damascus suburbs, whose siblings and four cousins were arrested over a decade ago.

"I've searched all the documents that might give me a clue to their location," he added, but it was all in vain.

Residents say there are at least three other similar sites, where diggers were frequently seen working in areas once off-limits under the former government.

- 'Peace of mind' -

The dirt at the pit where Alaywi stands looks loose, freshly dug. Children run and play nearby.

If the site was investigated, "it would allow many people to have peace of mind and stop hoping for the return of a son who will never return", he said.

"It's not just one, two, or three people who are being sought. It's thousands."

He called on international forensic investigators to "open these mass graves so we can finally know where our children are."

Many Syrians who spoke to AFP in recent days expressed disappointment at not finding their loved ones in the prisons opened after the takeover by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS).

A few kilometres (miles) from Najha, a team of about 10 people, most in white overalls, was transferring small white bags into larger black ones with numbers.

Syrian Civil Defense teams have received numerous calls from people claiming to have seen cars dumping bags by the roadside at night. The bags were later found to contain bones.

"Since the fall of the regime, we've received over 100 calls about mass graves. People believe every military site has one," said civil defence official Omar al-Salmo.

- Safeguard evidence -

The claim isn't without reason, said Salmo, considering "the few people who've left prisons and the exponential number of missing people."

There are no official figures on how many detainees have been released from Syrian jails in the past 10 days, but estimates fall far short of the number missing since 2011.

In 2022, the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights monitor estimated that more than 100,000 people had died in prison, mostly due to torture, since the war began.

"We're doing our best with our modest expertise," said Salmo. His team is collecting bone samples for DNA tests.

On Tuesday, Human Rights Watch urged the new Syrian authorities to "secure, collect and safeguard evidence, including from mass grave sites and government records... that will be vital in future criminal trials".

The rights group also called for cooperation with the International Committee of the Red Cross, which could "provide critical expertise" to help safeguard the records and clarify the fate of missing people.

Days after Assad's fall, HRW teams visiting Damascus's Tadamun district, the site of a massacre in April 2013, found "scores of human remains".

In Daraa province, Mohammad Khaled regained control of his farm in Izraa, seized for years by military intelligence.

"I noticed that the ground was uneven," said Khaled.

"We were surprised to discover a body, then another," he said. In just one day, he and others including a forensic doctor exhumed a total of 22 bodies.



Flashy Villas, Cars and Drugs: Assad’s Legacy in Latakia

A man climbs a staircase in the damaged house of Hafez Munzer al-Assad, a relative of ousted Syrian president Bashar al-Assad, in the western port city of Latakia on December 15, 2024. (AFP)
A man climbs a staircase in the damaged house of Hafez Munzer al-Assad, a relative of ousted Syrian president Bashar al-Assad, in the western port city of Latakia on December 15, 2024. (AFP)
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Flashy Villas, Cars and Drugs: Assad’s Legacy in Latakia

A man climbs a staircase in the damaged house of Hafez Munzer al-Assad, a relative of ousted Syrian president Bashar al-Assad, in the western port city of Latakia on December 15, 2024. (AFP)
A man climbs a staircase in the damaged house of Hafez Munzer al-Assad, a relative of ousted Syrian president Bashar al-Assad, in the western port city of Latakia on December 15, 2024. (AFP)

The drive winds between manicured lavender-lined lawns to a crescent-shaped home with a gleaming swimming pool on the Syrian coast: Bashar al-Assad's holiday hideaway disgusts those who now come here.

"To think that he spent all that money and we lived in misery," spat Mudar Ghanem, 26.

He is grey-skinned and his eyes are sunken after spending 36 days in a Damascus jail, accused like other suspected dissidents of "terrorism" against the ousted president's rule.

Now he had come "to see with my own eyes how they lived while other people had no electricity", Ghanem told AFP, standing by the windows of a huge white-marbled living room.

"I don't care if the next president lives here too," he added, "as long as he looks after the people and doesn't humiliate us."

The Assad holiday home is in Latakia, Syria's second largest port after Tartus. It is in an area that is the heartland of the Assad clan's Alawite sect.

On Sunday, a week after the deposed president fled Syria a lightning opposition offensive after his family had ruled for more than five decades, curious people came to see how Assad had lived.

This was just one of three Assad villas on the outskirts of the city.

In scenes that were unimaginable just days ago, Syrians wandered through the luxury home that is now guarded by a handful of fighters.

There was no air of triumphalism, just stupefaction and anger at how Assad had lived a life of luxury in this idyllic seaside spot.

Over the past week the house itself has been ransacked, stripped of its last doorknob, but the grandeur of its rooms and the antique mosaic adorning the entrance bear witness to its standing.

- Showroom -

The land used to be owned by Nura's family.

"They chased us away. I didn't dare come back" before now, the 37-year-old said, adding that she intends to seek legal redress to get her property back.

Most people who spoke to AFP on Sunday, like Nura, spoke freely but preferred not to give their full names. Despite its downfall, the fear instilled by the Assad name is still there.

"You never know -- they could come back," said 45-year-old Nemer, after parking his motorbike outside a flashy villa.

The house belonged to Munzer al-Assad, a cousin of the former leader.

Along with his brother, who died in 2015, Munzer ran the notorious "shabiha" militia, known for its abuses and trafficking operations.

"It's the first time I've stopped here," Nemer said. "In the past the guards would chase us away. We weren't allowed to park."

The two-storey house had also been stripped. Chandeliers, furniture, stucco moldings... all gone. Family photographs ripped up and portraits torn from now bare walls. The looters had been busy.

"I get 20 dollars a month. I have to do two jobs just to feed my family," Nemer said, bitter at the memory of Assad clan convoys that used to speed through the city streets.

Munzer's son Hafez ran a car showroom -- Syria Car. Now just a single vehicle sits there among the broken glass.

The car won't start, so people have been pulling it apart, destroying its bodywork, windows and upholstery. A young couple pretended to get behind the wheel.

- On a mission -

Lawyer Hassan Anwar, another visitor, was on a mission. The 51-year-old inspected the premises, searching for any documentation that could be later used in court.

He said this was because Hafez was well known for confiscating cars or buying them for well below market price before selling them on.

"Several complaints have been filed," Anwar said.

"Syria Car" was in fact one big money-laundering operation to mask the family's trafficking operations, the lawyer said.

On the pavement outside, two passers-by stopped beside a sewer grating. They lifted it up and scooped out hundreds of small white pills.

This was captagon, a banned amphetamine-like stimulant. It became Syria's largest export, turning the country under Assad into the world's biggest narco state.

They said massive quantities of the drug had been found nationwide after Assad fell.

Lawyer Anwar said pills had been exported from Latakia inside clothing labels.

Accompanied by two young opposition fighters newly arrived from Idlib province, Anwar entered the building beside the showroom, stepping through its broken window. As he did so, a young guard, Hilal, appeared.

In the basement, Hilal had discovered brand new scales still in their boxes -- "for weighing drugs", he said -- along with box after box of glassware, pipettes and tubes he said were used to manufacture amphetamines.

"I'm shocked by the scale of these crimes," said 30-year-old Ali, one of the two fighters from Idlib.

As Ghanem said at Assad's sumptuous holiday villa, standing there and looking out to sea, "God will have his revenge."